Where is the Outrage?

When Charlie Kirk was assassinated last month, we were shocked, outraged, and grieved. (If interested, you can read the comments I made the day after his death in the previous blog post.) He was gunned down for the crime of speaking words and holding beliefs that angered the shooter, which is as evil, plain and simple. What made it so painful for so many of us is that Charlie Kirk was a Christian. Whatever you thought about his politics, there is no denying his strongly held faith in Christ was central to his personal identity. His death highlighted the animosity so many in our culture hold towards Biblical faith. As a fellow believer, Charlie Kirk was part of our tribe. 

This week we are reeling from another act of deadly violence against a group of people who were targeted specifically because their words and beliefs angered the man who killed them. On Sunday, a man drove his truck through the front door of a Mormon church in Grand Blanc, MI. He opened fire on the people gathered there, then set fire to the building. He killed four people in the process, before being shot dead by responding police officers. Investigators are still piecing together what happened, but it is now painfully obvious the assailant was motivated by his hatred of the Church of Latter-Day Saints (the formal name of the Mormon church.) This was no random act. This man hunted down people who held beliefs he thought were wrong. 

When I first heard of the tragedy the morning after, my immediate thought had to do with the safety of my own congregation. What could we learn from this event to make the people who call Bonsack their home more secure? That’s not a bad question to ask, and it is one we are constantly rethinking. But later that morning, a second question came to my mind. Why am I not outraged and grieved by this story the same way I was when I first learned of the Kirk assassination? Morally speaking, there is NO difference between these two events. In both cases, lives were snuffed out in a moment of premeditated, unprovoked violence. In both cases, families are torn to the core by a loss than can never be replaced or explained. And in both cases, the victims were specifically chosen because of what they believed. So why did one act lead me to grieve, and the other only lead me to ask strategic security questions? The answer is painful to acknowledge, but if we are to have any hope of finding our way through this dark and disturbing season in our culture, we must acknowledge it, and we must repent of it. I was less bothered by what happened on Sunday, because the Mormons don’t belong to my tribe. 

Let me very clear. The Mormon church preaches a false gospel, which is to say what they preach is no gospel at all. Their beliefs about the nature of God, creation, the Trinity, the person of Christ, the means of salvation, the Scriptures, the role of the church – all of it is plainly at odds with the teachings of historic, orthodox, evangelical Christianity. To be fair, Mormonism teaches it followers to be good, moral people, which is something to which all people of good will should aspire. And yet, there is no salvation in the teachings of Mormonism, because Mormon doctrine separates the being or the essence of the Son from the Father. This is no minor technicality. If the Son is not truly one with the Father, then his death is ineffective for our atonement. I don’t point out this distinction out of hate. I do so out of a desire for clarity. In these divisive times, we must be able to speak our convictions clearly and honestly, even when those convictions lead us to differing conclusions. Otherwise, we will only continue to muddle our way through the confusion of a culture that has decided all truth claims are equally valid, which is just another way of saying there is no truth. 

But let me also be very clear about this: those people who were gathered for worship inside their Mormon church on Sunday morning had every right to do so freely and openly and without fear of being attacked. They have every right to believe what they believe, and nothing about their belief system justified the actions of a man who decided he would rather kill them than simply disagree with them. Various news outlets have reported the assailant was angry over the fact that, according to him, Mormon teaching is an assault on true Christianity. The irony is that in this case, the true assault on Christianity was in the form of a man who decided the best way to express his apparent faith in a crucified Messiah was to gun people down in cold blood. If that doesn’t shock us and outrage us, then something is deeply wrong. 

Truth matters. What we believe matters. The key to getting past our deep divisions is not found in ignoring our differences or pretending like they don’t exist. Imagine telling an orthodox Jew his unique commitment to Torah doesn’t really matter. Imagine telling a devout Muslim his unique devotion to Allah doesn’t matter. For that matter, imagine telling an atheist his belief in God’s non-existence doesn’t matter. Rather than building unity, such statements disrespect and belittle the unique vision that various faith (and non-faith) traditions hold out for the world. That fact that these visions often differ greatly only highlights our need to speak our convictions with clarity and persuasive power. 

For those of us who follow Christ, that conviction includes the fact that Jesus did not discriminate when it came to when and how he showed mercy. For example, in Mark 3:7-12, we read Jesus healed diseases and cast out demons for a large crowd that pressed in on him, even though there is no indication in the text that those who sought him ever expressed what we would call saving faith. In Matthew 5:45, he told us our Father in heaven causes the sun to shine on the evil and the good and the rain to fall on the righteous and the unrighteous. This is from the same Messiah who unapologetically declared in John 14:6 that he alone is the way, the truth, and the life, and that no one comes to the Father except through him. As John 1:14 declares, Jesus is full of grace AND truth. This means we should be able to hold fast to our Biblical convictions while also seeking the good of those who do not share those convictions. Or, at the very least, it means we should be able to live without destroying those who don’t share our convictions. 

The tribalism of our world will ultimately destroy us. Yes, I will cling to the community of people who share my faith. These are the ones with whom I can build a meaningful life, because these are the ones with whom I share a common vision for that life. But if I am going to measure the value of another person by whether they belong to my team or “that other team,” we are doomed. Either we believe in the sanctify of all life, or we don’t. Either we believe in the call to love our neighbors as ourselves or we don’t. (By the way, Jews and Samaritans were definitely in different tribes. Read the Parable of the Good Samaritan for yourself.) Either we believe in the power of suffering love, or we don’t. Jesus doesn’t give us a middle way. 

 So, to my Mormon neighbors, I ask for your forgiveness for not immediately identifying with the pain of your incredible loss. What happened to you was evil to the core. I promise to serve you and seek your good whenever such an opportunity comes way, and I will pray for the comfort of God to be present to you, even though we have differing understandings of who that God is. And, just as importantly, I will ask the Jesus who saved me to keep working to save you. That is the only hope any of us have.